


Chaos Breeds Chaos

by orphan_account



Category: Thor (2011)
Genre: Angst, Losing Control of Said Magic, M/M, Magic, Pre-Thor, Pseudo-Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-24
Updated: 2012-06-24
Packaged: 2017-11-08 11:30:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/442750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Chaos, he can feel it, he is the god of trickery, a silver tongued lair yes, but for a moment, just one, he relishes in it the feeling of being out of control, he could love this, he could create this, understands that this is what he could be.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>A crack of thunder reminds him otherwise.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chaos Breeds Chaos

**Author's Note:**

> Because I can't write what I want to write with all these THORKI FEELS *facepalm*

It all happens so fast.

 

The heat of battle around him, the clanging of swords, the clashing of shields, the hum of the Mjölnir, the cries; some of battle others of fear. Faces twisted in terror and determination covered in dirt, sweat and blood. The Allfather use to say you can tell how good a warrior is by the marks on his armour could see the many scratches that had come so close to the kill but had been defeated before they had the chance. Loki however, thought of it as more of luck than skill.

 

Thor’s armour was covered in them, Loki’s was not and the Allfather never failed to scoff at that. Loki was not a fighter not in the ways of hand to hand at least he could fight Thor when sparring his speed was an advantage while Thor was brute strength. Loki could easily dodge a punch working out a strategy. But still Thor had his mindless strength, which would win in the end.

 

Loki did have his magicks, something, which was his own, something he could be praised for something Thor would never have, yet the Allfather did not trust _his_ magicks thought he was still too young and inexperienced. Loki had been fairly young when he discovered it, when him and Thor had been training and one moment Thor had been running towards him and Loki had felt something uncontrollable burst from him, he did not want to call it fear but that was what it felt like. Then Thor had been thrown on to his back with a flash of green.

 

Thor had been delighted of course, slapped him on the shoulder too hard, his booming laughter echoing throughout the halls and declaring loudly that his brother possessed the most powerful magicks in all the kingdoms and he should join their warriors immediately. The Allfather had shot down the request saying magick was untrustworthy and did more harm than good. But still he allowed Loki to be train himself though he was never tutored, he was only allowed books.

 

Loki has been nothing but controllable with his magicks since then wanting to prove himself to the Allfather but there were times however when he was a young boy dreaming of the cold biting at his skin with shivers that would never stop, his skin would turn blue before his eyes. He would wake with a scream suddenly feeling like his soul was being dragged from his body, like it was trying to escape only to hear the sudden smash of glass, the explosion of the fireplace. Mother would have to lie with him those nights rocking him back to sleep, as they were surrounded by broken glass and the smell of burnt linen, hushing his whimpers and drying his tears as he trembled uncontrollably at the cold he could still feel embedded deep within his skin.

 

But it was Thor who would always somehow know crawling into his bed at night wrapping his arms around Loki and his dream would turn from cold to warmth. Or Loki would go to him when he’d wake with a start the feel of frostbite still fresh in his mind. It changed when they got older, the warmth was deeper, the feeling of skin on skin to fight away the cold, the hushed whispers to forget the sound of howling wind, the rumple of thunder to bring a smile.

 

But here, now, there is no warmth, there is hot sticky sweat but not warmth or cold. There is fear here to but not from him and not for others. There is just fear from those who surround him, it shrouds him, chokes him, he can no longer call this fear just his own. And the sounds of battle, they just become a distant echo.

 

Chaos, he can feel it, he is the god of trickery, a silver tongued lair yes, but for a moment, just one, he relishes in it the feeling of being out of control, he could love this, he could create this, understands that this is what he could be.

 

A crack of thunder reminds him otherwise.

 

He pushes from the chaos, he lets the it be apart of him then he pushes it out with everything he has. There are too many emotions in him not to, too many worries, too many cares all for one.

 

But this isn’t control; this is chaos. But he uses chaos to defeat chaos. 

 

He feels his power leave him with joy; it takes flight across the battlefield, surging through everything, destroying everything in its path, reaching every corner of the land in one powerful explosion. Faintly he finds a thought hoping for the safety of his allies, he cannot control this, he cannot choose who lives or dies for chaos cannot be controlled.

 

He comes back to himself, swaying in the wind, which has suddenly become stronger. He feels weak, his body screaming for rest, his bones ache and his head pounds and he can hear his blood rushing.

 

He falls, no longer able to hold himself up waiting for the pain of hitting the ground. The impact never comes however and Loki frowns would laugh at it to if he could.

 

Darkness surrounds the edge of his vision and he blinks a few times in an effort to clear it, squinting at the shape above him.

 

It’s Thor, he knows it, can feel the heat through his armour from where his arms hold him. Thor’s face covered in dirt and blood, the beginnings of a bruise on his cheek. His face is twisted in anguish, his bright blue eyes wide and his lips move with words Loki cannot hear.

 

With great effort Loki lifts his hand, his fingers lightly tracing the bruise on Thor’s cheek feeling the warmth beneath his fingers. He feels his lips dry from the days of battle but still so perfect. The exhaustion comes then and it’s too much and his hand drops as Thor gives a shout he can barley make out.

 

The last thing he hears is the rumble of thunder and the feel of the first drop of rain that falls on his cheek before he sinks into nothingness.

 

*

 

Loki’s throat is too dry and he fights off the darkness. He must be thrashing because he feels hands grab him that just make him struggle more.

_“Loki!”_

He knows that voice, that constantly booming, deep, instantly recognisable voice. He ceases his movements, eyes opening with a flutter. The light is too bright at first and it stings his eyes.

 

“Brother you’re awake.” 

 

_Obviously_ but Loki cannot speak it his throat too dry. Thor seems to understand reaching for some water for him to drink. He sits up slowly waving off Thor’s help who ignores him, pushing him back into the pillow to sit, a flash of heat as he grasps Loki’s shoulders. 

“What,” it comes out cracked and hoarse and he clears his throat wincing slightly at the stab of pain. “What happened?”

 

Thor looks hesitant it flashes through his eyes, so easy for Loki to see. Thor is not a good lair nor is he good at hiding his emotions; Loki can read him like an open book.  “The battle, we won.”

 

“How did we win?” Loki asks with narrow eyes cutting to the point.

 

“I’m sure you know.” Replies Thor. No his brother is not good at this game he too much of a warrior, all strength and little brains.

 

“Unless you were not aware brother,” Loki makes his voice dropped to an annoyed hiss, “I was unconscious for most of it.”

 

Thor’s eyes shine with amusement and he gives a goofy smile, which Loki hates when he’s trying to ask serious questions  “No, in fact you only lost consciousness right at the end.” 

 

A sharp pang at his head and he remembers the last moments of the battle, bodies dropping, and Thor’s face twisted in pain. That feeling of power and chaos. “You fought well brother, won the battle for us.”

 

“I’m sure the Allfather will not see it that way.” Loki says deep in thought, that power had been so pure, so strong he only wishes –  

 

“Father is proud of you Loki but he was worried as was our mother.” Loki snaps out of his daydream, taking in Thor’s words.

 

“Then why are they not here?” Loki says simply, sinking deeper into the pillows, his back aching slightly from sitting so straight. Thor does not answer he seems to understand that question was rhetorical. Loki’s thoughts turn back to his memories. Sunlight shines through his windows and balcony. Thor watches him with concern clear in his eyes but Loki pays little attention staring into space with a frown on his face.

 

“Brother are you well?.” Thor says faintly.

 

“Loki?” He says when he makes no answer, leaning close Loki’s thoughts still caught up trying to understand how after all these years his magicks could have lost control. He is the god of mischief yes but this is something different, stronger, more violent and destructive. 

 

“Are you alright I can call a healer?” 

 

“No it’s nothing.” Loki murmurs remembering himself. 

 

He feels a hand on his but the warmth does little for him this time. “Brother please what is troubling you? Are you still hurting?”

 

It was something else he had done with his power, something he thought he never had or could possess, and this was more than just simple tricks, this was the work for a god of those arts. “Chaos.” He mutters eyes alight with understanding. 

 

“Loki?” Thor snaps. Loki meets his brother’s eyes so blue filled with confusion, how quaint. 

 

“Go away Thor I need to rest.”

 

“No, something is obviously wrong.”

 

Loki’s patience snaps. “Of course there is you idiot I have been unconscious for gods know how long and I feel like you do after a feast with the Warrior Three.” 

 

Concern and confusion leave Thor’s eyes only to hold amusement once more, he leans forward to Loki and something about the curve of his smile catches Loki’s eye. “I am glad to see your quick tongue has not cessed.”

 

“Would you be worried if it did?” Loki says, cocking his head to allow the angle for Thor to move forward and take what he wants but it also allows Loki the room to tease and resist if the mood strikes him.

 

“There is nothing to worry about, I just lost control – momentarily – it will not happen again.” 

 

“That is not what I care about brother and you know it.” He says looking annoyed. Thor only has one thing bigger than his ego, his heart.

 

“Does the mighty Thor pay all his warriors a visit?” Loki teases.

 

“Only his favourite.” He says huskily leaning forward for another kiss but Loki presses a finger to his still dry lips.

 

“Then the fighting is over?” 

 

“For now.” Thor says nothing but the agreement it there. 

 

“You must leave, before someone sees.” Loki says suddenly aware of how long Thor must have been here.

 

“Why should they care I’m only sitting at my brother’s bedside.” Thor says leaning forward once more.

 

“A brother who is now fine.” Loki snaps to get his attention, squeezing at his shoulder, trying to push him away.

 

“Loki.” Thor says softly but Loki pushes at him, remembering himself, the control he needs now, it hurts but he never lets himself show it. 

 

“I do not know what I would have done if you were killed.” Thor whispers like it’s the worst thing in the entire universe, his thumb caressing Loki’s cheek not even noticing his attempts to push him away. 

 

Loki wants nothing more than to be wrapped up in Thor’s warm embrace to have his brother hold him close, Loki cupping his cheek whispering over and over again, _I’m here, I’m here, I’m right here._ “Well I would have no one to blame but myself I’m sure.” He says instead schooling his expression thinking of the Allfather. 

 

Some many emotions cross Thor’s face, anger is the most obvious “Loki, how can you say such things?”

 

Loki let’s Thor’s anger fuel his own. “You will be king one day Thor you cannot afford to give any special treatment. And you certainly cannot allow your people to know you have anything more than brotherly affections for me.”

 

“I only wish the best for you.” Thor says.

 

Loki laughs bitterly and scratches at his throat. “Please you would have me live out my life alone _brother_. You are too selfish to let me be with anyone but yourself.” _And I would let you, happily._

 

The pain is obvious on Thor’s face but he does not bother to deny it while Loki keeps his bottled inside keeping his expression indifferent, almost cold.

“I will let you rest brother.” Thor says in defeat. He hesitates then brushes a kiss to Loki’s forehead lips resting longer than is needed. Loki closes his eyes, keeping them closed as Thor leaves the sound of his voice carrying across the room as if it were right in Loki’s ear, “Sleep well,” then the sound of the door closing.

 

Loki buries himself under the sheets, like some sort of sanctuary. Wrapping himself up to fight away the oncoming cold, in an effort to get warmth.

 

The warmth never comes. 

 


End file.
